


Pride and Honour

by ohmytheon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmytheon/pseuds/ohmytheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU) Eighteen year-old Catelyn Tully is in store for a good surprise for once at a tourney by one Tywin Lannister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride and Honour

The sun rose after Catelyn did on this warm morning. The late night festivities of the people outside had kept her awake; and she had not been able to sleep for all the troubles on her mind. She left bed early to prepare herself for what was supposed to be a thrilling day, choosing a dark red gown and to wear a loose hairstyle to leave her red tresses hang loosely over her shoulders. _Brandon prefers[my hair](http://ohmytheon.tumblr.com/post/27929730440/pride-and-honor-catelyn-x-tywin) this way,_ she thought as she brushed her hair again.

No doubt the day’s [events](http://ohmytheon.tumblr.com/post/27929730440/pride-and-honor-catelyn-x-tywin) would leave her looking a mess, especially in this heat, but she wanted to look stunning, especially with Lord Ryswell’s daughter about. Both Lysa and Brandon had told Catelyn not to worry about the other girl, but Catelyn could not trust the way Barbary gazed at Brandon – and she could not trust the way Brandon smiled back in return.

By the time Catelyn exited her tent, the whole place seemed to be crawling with people. She knew that she should wait for someone else to walk with her, but she was impatient and wanted to be alone besides. She was nearly ten and nine, soon-to-be wed, and could take care of herself. Catelyn walked through the camps, nodding to knights and ladies alike. _I need to smile more, be pleasant,_ she told herself, but it was difficult to force herself to smile at people that had seen her honor humiliated. Last night’s [events](http://ohmytheon.tumblr.com/post/27929730440/pride-and-honor-catelyn-x-tywin) had put her in a sour mood indeed.

Catelyn rounded a tent, heading in the direction of the castle, when she nearly ran into a man in gold and red armor. She stepped back suddenly, tripping over a rock, and let out a gasp, but a hand reached out and grasped her arm, keeping her on her feet.

“Are you all right, my lady?” a deep voice asked her.

Catelyn looked up from the hand on her arm to the face of the man it belonged to. Standing before her was none other than Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock himself. She tried not to gulp visibly. “Pardon me, my lord; I was not paying attention and did not mean to disturb you,” she replied, blushing as red as her hair and dress. _Now I look ridiculous; I’m sure._ “I’m quite all right, thank you.”

Lord Tywin let get of her and gave her an appraising look, one that made her feel like she was under scrutiny. Still, she did not look away. “You are Lord Hoster Tully’s oldest daughter, yes?”

“Yes, my lord,” she answered as she curtseyed. The look on her face was proud. “My name is Catelyn, if it pleases.”

“I see your lord father taught you all the proper courtesies.”

“He had to,” Catelyn quipped, a little smile on her face. “I was a difficult girl.”

“You still seem to be,” Tywin pointed out, a vague shadow of a smile on his face. She’d heard tales that Lord Tywin never smiled though. He had many years on her, but she could not deny that he was handsome. Compared to her own lord father, Lord Tywin looked more capable and stronger than most men ten years younger than him. “You should not be wandering these camps alone or without some sort of escort.”

“I can handle myself,” Catelyn responded. “Besides, I was merely heading to the tourney; and it’s not far from my family’s tent. My uncle is jousting this morning; and I wanted to make sure I had a good view.”

“Yes, I’d heard that Ser Brynden Tully was in the tourney. He is a fine knight.”

Catelyn swelled with pride. “One of the best.”

“My son, Jaime, spoke of him all the time when he was young. He very much admires your uncle.” Lord Tywin held out his arm for her. “It would be discourteous of me to not walk you to the stands. I’m sure your uncle would do the same for a beautiful maid.”

Catelyn could not help but blush again, but she linked her arm through his nonetheless. “Thank you, my lord.” She felt crowed by Lord Tywin when no one had ever done that to her before. Catelyn, for all her courtesies and proper manners, was a proud and bold young woman. Not even Brandon could quiet her. He always teased that it was her fiery hair that made her this way, but she knew it was just how she had learned to live. One didn’t become the Lady of Riverrun at a young age and not be confident and strong. But she felt hushed when around this Lannister. She supposed it had to do with all the many things she had heard about him. He’d destroyed House Tarbeck and House Reyne at an age younger than she was now after all.

“You’re betrothed to Brandon Stark, are you not?” Lord Tywin asked as they walked through the camps. She noticed how everyone made sure to steer clear of them and give them an open path.

“I am,” Catelyn replied, somewhat blandly. He seemed to know more about her than most, but he was a shrewd and intelligent man. He probably made it his business to know what the other high lords and ladies were up to. After all, knowledge was power. “We’re to marry at the end of the year.”

“To be the Lady of Winterfell – you must be very excited.”

Catelyn glanced at Tywin, trying to see if he was mocking her, though she doubted he was. Lord Tywin was not a man for japes; she’d heard that he had never made a joke in his life, though she was also uncertain if that was true or not. Still, she was wary. Brandon had made a spectacle of himself the night before with some lowborn Westerland girl. It would be easy to pour salt on her wounded pride. “I am,” she said again, “but I’m nervous as well.” She looked up to the sky, watching birds fly around. They were so hopeful. Would that she could have flown away last night when Brandon had accidentally embarrassed her. “I hope I am pleasing enough to my lord husband.”

They stopped, having reached their destination at the stands. Lord Tywin turned to face her and gave her a serious look, one that she was sure he wore often enough. It was still sobering to see directed towards her. “You will be a fine wife; that much I’m sure of,” he told her firmly. She bit her lip, wishing she could believe him. “Brandon Stark would be a fool to not appreciate what he’s been given. Women like you are rare in this world. He would do well to remember that.”

And with that, Lord Tywin bid her good day and left her on her own again. A smile found its way onto Catelyn’s face and stayed there, even when she walked up to the stands and took her seat next to her younger sister Lysa. A compliment by Tywin Lannister was not to be easily dismissed; and it gave her a sense of hope that neither her sister nor brother could help her with.

“Where have you been?” Lysa demanded in a whisper, leaning in close. “Brandon came to call on you before the tourney.”

Of course he had – but not to apologize, never to apologize. Brandon was prouder than she was; and so the two of them never apologized to one another after any sort of disagreement. Catelyn merely shrugged her shoulders. “I went for a walk through the camps.”

“You know that you’re not supposed to walk around here on your own,” Lysa warned. “If Father found out…”

“But I _didn’t_ walk on my own,” Catelyn told her sister, lifting her chin. Lysa gave her an unconvinced look, so Catelyn continued, “Lord Tywin Lannister walked me here himself, so I was perfectly safe.”

“Lord Tywin Lannister?” Lysa narrowed her eyes. “If you’re going to make up stories, Cat, you should make them more believable, at least.”

Catelyn frowned at her sister, angry that Lysa didn’t believe her. She was about to continue arguing when she noticed other people approaching, so she simply looked away from Lysa; and they stopped talking. Brandon’s brothers, Ned and Benjen Stark, soon joined them. When Ned sat down net to her, she smiled at him, but he only greeted her properly. He always seemed to so sad. Even now that he too was betrothed, he seemed sad, even though he proclaimed to be happy. Catelyn had once asked Brandon why his younger brother was so solemn, but Brandon had simply shrugged his shoulders and said that Ned had always been that way, even as a child.

Soon enough, the jousting tournament began. There was such excitement in the air that Catelyn was able to forget about all of her worries about the night before and even her petty argument with Lysa. The crowd cheered with every victory and gasped at every shocking defeat. At some point, Brandon rode up to her, asking for a favor to wear. She smiled pleasantly, but gave him one grudgingly. He even managed to sneak a kiss from her. He rode strong and true, defeating knight after knight. No one could deny that this wolf was vicious; and he was clearly one of the favorites to win.

Brandon was not the only one to stand out, however. Her uncle, Ser Brynden, was a strong contender, unseating men on the first attempt nearly every time. Catelyn could not be any happier about that. Both she and Edmure cheered loudly for their uncle, sometimes to the point of irritating Lysa. She knew that she was being silly, but she could not help herself. The Lion was also a fierce competitor. He never took off his helm, but everyone knew that it was Jaime Lannister. He was silent, strong, and swift, taking down his competition fluidly.

Catelyn clapped for them all, but most especially for her uncle. She gasped and jumped to her feet when Ser Jaime unexpectedly unseated her uncle. Ser Brynden’s body crashed into the ground, his armor making a terrible clanging noise. She did not feel okay until she saw Ser Jaime helping her uncle back to his feet; and the crowd cheered once more.

She was still watching intently when she felt a hand on her elbow. When she looked down, she saw that it was Ned touching her. “Your uncle is unharmed, my lady, but for his pride,’ he told her. “You need not worry.”

Ned was right, of course. Ser Brynden took his helm off and gave out a big laugh. Even more people cheered and laughed with him. He walked off the field proudly and unhurt. Catelyn slowly returned to her seat, her hands still gripping the railing tightly, as Brandon and Ser Barristan Selmy rode onto the field. She watched carefully, silently wishing that Ser Barristan would unseat her betrothed, but it appeared as if the gods were not on her side and she was strangely disappointed. It was a hard fought battle, but Brandon was victorious in the end, knocking Ser Barristan off his horse on the third attempt. It was to be a battle between the Lion and the Wolf.

_Lord Tywin must be very proud of his son,_ Catelyn thought, but when she searched the crowd, she could not find the lord of Casterly Rock. To be fair, there were so many people here for the tourney that she could barely find anyone she recognized.

The two knights rode in front of the king to bow to him. When the king brusquely dismissed them, Brandon rode past her and winked. “For you, my Cat,” he told her, but no sooner had his horse trotted off did he smile slyly at Lady Ryswell. Catelyn’s heart sank, but she forced a hopeful look onto her face nonetheless, especially since Lysa was looking at her so closely.

“Brandon will win,” Lysa announced confidently next to her. Catelyn merely nodded her head, distracted by the scene. Brandon was just as confident; he displayed no fear or concern despite his opponent being a force to be reckoned with. He’d always been gifted in jousting, ever since he’d been a child. But this Lion…

Ser Jaime sat masked on top his horse, still and silent, lethal and very dangerous. It was almost eerie. Brandon could not sit still on top of his horse and could not help but call out to the crowd that cheered his name. But Ser Jaime ignored all jeers and cheers alike and looked straight ahead. Catelyn could not help but think it strange. She had seen him in tourneys before, but he had not acted like this. Jaime Lannister was ten and seven – just barely a man grown – and he acted as such as well, despite being incredibly talented with a lance and sword. Perhaps Lord Tywin had finally managed to instill some seriousness into the boy or the Kingsguard had taken his humor away from him.

Brandon pulled his helm down on his head and took his lance from his squire. Catelyn watched with bated breath as the two suddenly raced against one another. She cringed when Ser Jaime’s lance smashed into Brandon’s shield and splintered into hundreds of pieces – but Brandon did not fall from his horse. He recovered quickly, but she could tell that he was aggravated. His lance has slid off of the lion decorated shield with barely a splinter. He took a fresh one from his squire and rounded his horse, kicking into its sides to start him forward again. His opponent had been ready before him. This time, Brandon’s lance connected and hard, sliding past Ser Jaime’s shield and connecting with his chest, but Ser Jaime leaned back and was able to keep a tight grip on the reins of his horse.

_He’s going to win,_ Catelyn told herself – and found herself not wanting it to happen. She pictured him winning and proclaiming Barbary Ryswell the Queen of Love and Beauty, giving her the crown of blue roses. Perhaps it wouldn’t happen. He’d give it to her and she’d be so honored and gracious and she would blush. (But she could not trust him to do that – she couldn’t just trust him to restore her honor and dignity like that – and that was what saddened and angered her the most.)

The Lion and Wolf went at each other once more, but this time, one of them went down with a sickening crunch. Catelyn’s hands flew to her mouth as a smothered gasp escaped her lips. The tip of Ser Jaime’s lance went right past Brandon’s shield this time, connecting with his chest, and Brandon was almost effortlessly unseated from his horse, landing onto his back and his head hitting the ground hard.

“Oh,” was the only thing Catelyn could manage, pale-faced and shaken. Brandon’s fall had looked something terrible. Perhaps she had wished some sort of ill on him, but not this, never this. Had the gods heard her thoughts too much? Everyone around her seemed equally stunned into a stupor. Young Benjen, who had been cheering earlier alongside Edmure, had gone completely silent. She slowly forced herself to stand. “Brandon… Is he…?”

But then Brandon slowly dragged himself to his feet, jerking his helm off as well. He put his hand to his side if only for a moment before standing up straight and listening to the sound of the crowd shouting. He came in second, which was not a bad position to be in considering. Still, Catelyn could tell that while he may have broken a rib or two, it was his pride that was injured the most. Brandon Stark was not used to losing. He was well-known in the tourneys he competed in; and he was quite used to getting his way and what he wanted, both through skill and name. Now he had to practice being gracious in losing, something he was not very good at. Catelyn bit her lip when they connected eyes; and he gave her a little bow. A forced smile found its way onto his face and he waved his hand to the crowd as he walked off the field, his squire bringing his horse alongside him.

“Fret not, my lady,” Ned told her as she sat back down. “Leave him to himself for a while tonight; and he will come to you looking for comfort.”

_If not, it’ll be Barbary Ryswell or some serving girl,_ Catelyn couldn’t help but think. She smiled at Ned and thanked him, but she could tell that he was thinking the same thing. Both of them knew what his brother was like. Brandon was passionate and fiery – and he did care about her; she knew that much – but too much fire and other people got burned in the process. He would be angry tonight and would potentially get too into his cups tonight, which would only cause problems. They’d gotten into a terrible row that had left her crying the last time he’d become too drunk. He’d apologized to her so many times for that, but it still left her wary of when he drank. Still, she knew that he would be upset and very disgruntled by his loss. It was perhaps best if she let him be…

Someone squeezing her left hand hard and a frantic whisper saying, “Cat!” brought Catelyn back to the present. When she looked to her left, she saw that Lysa was looking at her all wide-eyed and was gripping her had tightly. She went to say something, but then Lysa jerked her head, indicting to where Catelyn should truly be looking. When she turned to look in front of her, she saw that Ser Jaime was holding the crown of blue roses out to her.

“To Lady Catelyn Tully,” the Lion said in a deep voice, “queen of love and beauty.”

_That is not Jaime Lannister’s voice,_ Catelyn realized quite suddenly, her eyes widening as well, as she took the crown out of the champion’s hands.

The Lion took his helmet off to reveal himself to be none other than Lord Tywin Lannister himself and not his son. It had all been a ploy. He’d merely been pretending to be his son – or rather, he had simply allowed people to make the assumption, which had been too easy to do. Tywin was giving her that intent look again, as if gauging her reaction, and she could not stop herself from blushing prettily as she placed the blue roses on top her head. She felt so absurd, so silly, with everyone’s eyes locked on her. She’d been proclaimed queen of love and beauty only once, by Brandon a year earlier, but it had been a much smaller tourney. This, however… This was so much more, so bigger, so grander. And it was _Tywin Lannister_.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said in what felt like a small voice. How could she not sound like that when compared to him and under his gaze? She could sense the ghost of a smile playing at his lips, but it never truly came. Still, she could see it, even if no one else could. Beside her, Ned was so stiff that she thought he must have felt uncomfortable. Lysa’s mouth had dropped open despite all manners. Edmure, her silly brother, looked fit to wet himself. She did not even want to think of what her father looked like in this moment.

But when she glanced hastily to the right, she caught sight of Brandon. An incredibly strange feeling overcame her in that moment. Brandon stood in his dented armor, a both furious and stunned look on his face. Not only had he been defeated, but he’d been defeated by a man nearly twice his age, the Lord of Casterly Rock, and then his betrothed had been named the queen of love and beauty by the man that had defeated him. If that was not a public humiliation, then Catelyn did not know what was. Nothing he could do with a serving wench or any other girl tonight or any other night would embarrass her nearly as much as he probably felt now. He would definitely be furious now, but she found herself not caring. In fact, she found herself beaming so happily that she felt like she might be glowing.

“I told you that Brandon Stark would be a fool not to appreciate what he has in you,” Lord Tywin told her as he horse trotted back away from the stands, his eyes still on her. “And now he looks the fool too, for you are truly one of a kind, my lady.”  


He nodded his head to her, and she nodded in return, thanking him once more, before he left the field to the sounds of the crowd cheering his name. No doubt “The Rains of Castamere” would be playing all night. She could already hear Brandon complaining about it. Still, nothing could dampen her spirits, not tonight at least, not for the rest of this tournament. Even as she walked back to her tent, with Lysa tittering behind her and Edmure going on about the great lion of the Rock and quiet Ned escorting them, the little smile did not leave her face.

 


End file.
